


Warrior-raw, Pirate-feral, Queen-strong, Goddess-almighty

by LiesandTruths



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Lives, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin is dumb and I feel the need to say it, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Introspection, Not Beta Read, Poetry, even though he isn’t actually in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:26:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiesandTruths/pseuds/LiesandTruths
Summary: Goddess Reborn, Smuggler of freedom, Queen of the forgotten, Warrior of blood and power—This is Ahsoka Tano.
Relationships: 501st Legion & Ahsoka Tano, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	Warrior-raw, Pirate-feral, Queen-strong, Goddess-almighty

O’ child-of-war, how do you breathe in smoke and exhale fury? How do you cry rivers for the innocent but never for yourself?

O’ goddess-of-fury, when did you learn who you walked beside? Trickery and Violence following you; almost as much as you followed them. When did you learn what you embodied?

O’ soldier mine, do your sorrows carve paths in your heart? Do your wounds ache when it rains?

O’ supernova, protector-of-the-weak, specter-of-the-dead, revenant reborn, girl avenging, when did you feel your sisters and brothers die? At fourteen? At twelve? At eighteen? At twenty? 

_Did you feel their pain all your life? Until finally, finally you realized why?_

-

Sometimes she talked to the stars,

Sometimes they talked back.

They spoke of pain and glory and treasure she once would have yearned for. 

-

When she closed her eyes all she saw was the dead, never those who surrounded her. She had lost far more than she ever thought she would gain. 

Padmé, Anakin, Obi-Wan, Echo, Fives, Jesse, Cody,

Her brothers were slaves again, and the world was darker than ever before. 

_|How do you bring light when you cannot make it yourself?_ _You find it_ _|_

She found her niece with Bail, and she cried until she flooded her room, ( _Leia_ , they called her, with a harsh EY sound. _Instead of Layah, full of soft and gentle vowels._ Instead of the name she knew _Anakin_ had given her). The only thing that stopped her was Padmé. Glorious, stunning Padmé, Who brought light into every room she walked in. her memory in little Layah’s smile and laugh, echoing around the room. _Layah_ would be safer, be _stronger_ on Alderaan.

-

_Are you proud of me, Obi-Wan? Did I make your heart sing with happiness before you died, at least once? Can’t you see me, Anakin? Did you ever love me, Padme? Was I your sister, Rex? Do you remember me, my brothers, slaves-of-the-empire, minds-your-own-no-longer-and-maybe-never-were?_

-

Ahsoka remembered dying. She remembered the sorrow-rage that was Anakin, and the horror that was Obi-Wan. She felt the pain, and she felt the Daughter, but most of all, she felt the Son, he crept into her mind as the Daughter died. Taking root like a parasite, his power becoming hers as much as the Daughters life force powered her own. 

A sixteen year-old with the power of two gods inside of her, her very _being_ forever at war with itself. Sometimes when she fell asleep they would speak. 

_Kill them, betray them, hurt them until they_ **_bow_ ** _to you._ The Son whispered. 

_Obey them, love them, be their rock until_ **_you_ ** _crumble instead of them._ The Daughter said.

Sometimes when she looked in the mirror she would not see blue and white, but rather stunning gold. Like pools of honey, framed by black veins and purple bruises. Sometimes when she fought, she did not stay firmly rooted in the light, in the Jedi ways. Sometimes she burned like amber and blood, and when beings of flesh-and-blood rushed at her, their hearts would stop pumping and she would know instinctively where to strike to make it slow, bloody and painful. But she would also know how to make it swift and easy— and she was never one to abandon her principles. 

Sometimes there would be a little sliver of pain and black that slithered around her arms like a tar-snake, and when she touched it, it burned her. Those days were almost the worst.

But in the days when it _was_ the worst, Anakin's face would be covered in burns and Obi-Wan almost translucent in the light. It broke her heart to know who they would become. She would flinch when his eyes dripped gold and flames licked his once handsome face. She would stifle a gasp when Obi-wan nearly disappeared. She would hide in a closet until Rex found her, he couldn’t understand what was happening, and neither did she, until many years later. 

-

Her people were born with war paint on their faces and teeth sharp enough to kill. Her skin was the color of blood and rust. And when she fought she looked like a demon reborn. 

She was not meant to be _docile_ or _roll over._ She was meant to render beings thrice her size helpless, and carve beating hearts from chests. 

She was a girl avenging those lost to her, whether it be her dead Masters or the entire galaxy, she fought for them and never against them. 

And so when they found her dripping blood onto the ground, there was little her Master could do, hug her tight and clean her off. Gentle hands never meant for war and nimble fingers made for creating and saving, not destroying. Anakin was wasted on the battle front, but she was not. 

Her blood sang a war-call when she lit her ‘sabers and her finger twitched with the urge to hurt those who she fought against. She was war-bred and battle-born, but she was a painful mercy.

Slow deaths were never something in her repertoire. 

-

Once, after she fought Vader, she saw Anakin. Long before the Death Star was ever destroyed. She felt him as he placed a hand on her cheek, and for a moment she was sixteen and hurting again, a little girl fighting for her place in this world, and fighting to stay alive. Just to see another sunrise. 

He was young, though, maybe a ghost, maybe it was all in her mind, but he was real in that moment and that was all she needed. Pressing a hand to hers she clung to the image until she knew he’d died. 

-

She was fierce flawlessness and terrifyingly sharp eyes. She glowed when the light hit her and the shadows warped around her until she was barely recognizable. Ahsoka Tano was never meant to be hidden, but it was what the universe demanded, in all of its swirling galactic energy. It told her to hide, to fight, and to _live_. 

-

O’ Lightning-Jedi, do you know what it’s like to lose? Do you know what it means to die?

~~Yes~~

-

Child of blood and glory, full of life and spreading death.

Sleepless nights full of painful hallucinations and the ghosts of those she doomed to die. Her brother by war and lineage, and the hundreds of others that never reached freedom. 

She is made of drying blood and the not quite cold bodies of the dead. 

| _Oh, Darling, my darling. Who said you must fight to be loved?_ |

Battle made and battle ready, a child-goddess forever. Eternal saviour, forever cursed to never see those who have died. Echos of her past sing in her heart and when her lungs inflate she can feel them, but never touch them, nor see them, nor speak to them. Hovering right outside of her knowledge until she claws at the walls in desperation. Immortal darling, cursed or blessed, but forever immortal. 

-

_Rome wasn’t built in a day, Darling, but it burned in one._

-


End file.
